Drakk-drengi
by SwagolasThranduilion
Summary: Smaug has entered Erebor. The elves arrive. Only one dares to help.
1. Chapter 1

**I have not written in a long, long time. Forgive me if you dislike my story.**

Drakk-drengi

_Chapter One_

The elves did not know what would await them at Erebor, but as they drew closer King Thranduil had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. A burning scent filled the air. This smell was from no ordinary fire.  
Approaching the curve of a slope downwards, and unexpected sight met the eyes of the elves. Dwarves, their women, and their children, all driven out of their home by what was unmistakably a dragon. King Thranduil paused, taking the sight in, judging, weighing up the risk, wondering if he should offer aid or not. In this short space of time the king's son, Legolas, rode forward, for he had been keeping up the rear of the march, to his father's side.

There came a cry from below, "Help us!" from none other than Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under The Mountain.

"Father, we must help them," Legolas said urgently.  
"No Legolas, the risk is too much. I will not sacrifice the lives of my people in this fight, it is folly."  
"Ada-" (_father_)  
"Come, ion-nin, we must return to Greenwood." (_my son)_

Legolas did not understand why his father would refuse aid to those in dire need.

"But ada, they desperately need our-"  
"My word is final. Now come along, my boy."

Thranduil turned away. Nothing could have prepared him for what he heard next.

"Father," came the quiet voice,"You will not risk the lives of our people..."

Legolas' voice grew louder.

"...then I shall risk my own! Noro lim, mellon-nin, noro lim!" (_run fast, my friend, run fast_)

Thranduil's head snapped round.

"Legolas, come back here! LEGOLAS!"

Legolas galloped away, urging his horse on faster and faster. He glanced back. His father was shouting for him. Thranduil faltered, and ceased. Legolas felt a deep pain in his heart, as he watched his father turn away from him, and leave with the army. Nonetheless, he charged forward, determined to see this through.

x x x

The dwarves watched as the Elven army turned from them and abandoned them in their hour of desperate need. Thorin, son of Thrain, vowed that as long as he should live, elves would never be his friends again. That is, until a lone rider was seen approaching. They saw the rider surge forward, King Thranduil twisting back and shouting something after him. Thorin inhaled deeply. So this was what they had. A single elf. As the rider drew nearer, sunlight glinted off of something. This was no ordinary rider, he was wearing an Eryn Lasgalen circlet, meaning-

"It's Prince Legolas!" a voice cried out.

Thorin looked up as hooves thundered past him.

"No, do not enter alo-"

It was too late. He had entered Erebor alone. Moments later his horse emerged from the mountain, solitary. He neighed and reared back on his hind legs, his eyes wide with fear and worry for his master.

All that could be heard for miles around was ear-splitting screeches of Smaug, the dragon, and the noises of metal protesting against dragon scales. The onslaught of terrible and horrifying noises went of for what seemed like hours, although 'twas only mere minutes, when there was an almighty roar, and then silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**This story could possibly go on for quite some time, you see I write my stories out by hand before I type them and I haven't even finished writing yet ^_^**

Chapter Two

It may have been hours, it may have been mere minutes, before a strangled cry of pain was heard. The screech of metal, probably a sword, being dragged along a stone floor was prominent. Heavy panting came next, as out of the dust, smoke, and rubble, came the prince. He was badly injured, giving up as he collapsed onto the ground. Thorin rushed to his side. Most of his right arm was badly burned, the skin scorched black and blistering, multiple large lacerations littered his body, and a large head wound bled onto the cobblestone beneath.

"Help!" Thorin cried out,"Someone help! Send for a healer, do it now!"

The elf's breathing was shallow and uneven, Thorin helpless to do anything to ease his pain. The elf began to whimper.

"...nanneth...ada...manke ier lle?" (_Mother...father...where are you?)_

Thorin understood just enough Elvish to know the the elf was wanting his mother and father._  
_  
"Be still, my friend," Thorin tried his best to sooth the young elf,"You will be fine." He said this although he doubted his own words.

"My eyes grow dark," Legolas choked out.

"No! No, stay with me, just hold on, you will not die! Not here, not like this!"

"Thorin! A healer is on his way from Laketown, he will be here in minutes!" a messenger conveyed.

"Thank the Valar..." he looked down at the elf,"See, a healer is coming, you're going to be fine." His reassuring tone really wasn't for Legolas, rather to convince himself.

"Thorin...son of Thrain..." Legolas struggled with his words,"I do hope that-...that my actions here today- have changed how you see my people," he gasped, "I know you have never particularly like us, please to not think badly of my father for not helping you...I-...please, he's all I have in this world and I-"

"Shh, be still you crazy elf," Thorin said softly, "You have done valiantly by your people."

He smiled, feeling the sting of tears trying to fight their way out. He held his composure.

"A rider approaches!"

The healer! At last! Thorin breathed a sigh of relief, glancing back down at the injured elf. The healer ordered for Thorin to move away and give him some space. He began tending to the elf, first taking care of the most serious wounds, the deep lacerations on his chest. He prepared some sort of herb mixture.

"This is going to hurt a bit, okay?"

He rubbed the mixture into the gashes. Legolas inhaled sharply, it hurt an awful lot more than he had anticipated.

"Master elf...I need to completely bind your abdomen, I think you have some broken ribs as well it would seem...I'm going to sit you up now, okay?"

Legolas groaned in response. The healer pulled him up. A cry of pain escaped his lips.

"There now, shh, I've got you, you're alright."

The healer wrapped him tightly with bandages around the middle, taking care of both the slashes and the broken ribs.

"Now, you lie back down again...uh..sorry, what's your name lad?"

"Legolas," he gasped out,"Son of Thranduil, mellon-nin." (_my friend_)

"Prince Legolas! Forgive me, I had no idea, I am sorry for my improper manners!"

"Just...- just fix me up please..."

"Yes, my lord."

The healer tended to his head wound next.

"Now, what sort of pain is it?"

"It's...- it's a dull throb."

"Are you feeling sleepy at all?"

"No, just sore."

"Good, that mean's it's just a superficial wound, there's no concussion."

Legolas was getting frustrated. he wanted to be left in peace, but this healer was taking an awfully long time seeing to him. He felt searing pain in his arm. He gritted his teeth and let out a growl.

"Now that was just some alcohol, to clean the burn as it's been lying in the dirt, you don't want it getting infected believe me. Oi don't be getting pissy with me, lad, I'm just trying to help."

The next sensation was cold, soothing like a cool drink on a hot day. The healer bandaged the length of Legolas' arm from fingertips to shoulder.

"There we go, all better! There's not much I can do for your singed hair, mind!" the healer laughed, trying to lighten the mood.  
The look Legolas gave him was frightening.

"Than you, master healer, for your services."

The healer bowed his head and took his leave.

Legolas moved carefully, wary of the fact that if he strained himself he would be in severe pain. Several dwarves rushed forward, offering the injured elf their assistance. They managed to get him on his feet, a significant achievement considering he was over two feet taller than all of them.

**Reviews are greatly encouraged ^_^**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well here's another one**

Chapter 3

"My lord you cannot possibly ride home in your condition," King Thror argued with the stubborn elf price.  
"I must, your Majesty, my father will be...well actually...I believe my father will think I'm dead...maybe that's why he didn't pursue me..." Legolas pondered.  
"At least stay in my halls until you are a little recovered. We must also hold a celebration in your honour! You will be forever know as Legolas Drakk-drengi!"  
"Dragon-slayer..." Legolas muttered to himself quietly," Very well then. I shall stay until I have recovered. Could you possibly send word to my father?"

* * *

"My lord Thranduil, dwarves approach our gates!"  
"I suppose they have come to return my son's mangled body to me," said Thranduil dismissively, he had accepted that Legolas had most likely ridden to his death," Send them in."  
The great doors opened. A group of dwarves entered. Thranduil rose from his throne.  
"So you have come to bring my son's body to me, correct?"  
"No, m'lord."  
"Pray tell, was he completely incinerated? Is that why you bring no body?"  
"No, m'lord. Why bear you such negativity? We come with tidings!"  
"Legolas...h-he survived?"  
"Aye, m'lord."  
"And the dragon?!  
"Slaughtered, single-handedly by your son."

Thranduil was beyond shocked. He did not expect Legolas to survive, and if he did he imagined it would be because he got scared at the last minutes and fled. But oh how wrong he was! He had slain the dragon! Although one question still plagued the king's mind.  
"Is he injured?"  
"No," said the dwarf dryly," He battled a dragon and there's not a scratch on him!"  
Thranduil glared. The dwarf gulped, realising his mistake was grave.  
"I am sorry m'lord, I do not know what came over me! He has some broken ribs, several lacerations, a very badly burned arm, and a nasty head wound."  
Thranduil stood up.  
"I must go to him at once."  
"M'lord...uhhh...we think it wise you didn't...you see...your son is under the impression that you did not care whether he lived or died...and that is why you did not pursue him. He believes you do not care for him."  
"That is entirely untrue!" the king was outraged," Why would he think that? I could not go after him, I had to escort my army back to Greenwood, why would my only son think me capable of not loving him? I've always been good to him, why does he-"  
"Um, m'lord, we will be taking our leave now, goodbye."  
The dwarf party left, leaving Thranduil alone with his thoughts. When he was sure they were gone he called out.  
"Galion! Ready my elk! I will be leaving for Erebor in a matter of hours!"  
"Yes, sire!"

* * *

Legolas was distraught. And slightly depressed. His father obviously didn't care about him. Had he cared, he would have come after him, we would not have let him face a dragon alone. But he had done just that. There came a knock at the door. It cracked open.  
"Legolas?" said a voice," May I come in?"  
It was Thorin.  
"Of course."  
Thorin opened the door fully, and entered the room.  
"How are you?"  
"Very much the same."  
"Legolas...your father...he...-he does love you, you know."  
"Hmph."  
"Look, I think maybe he was just doing what was best by your people..."  
"So he would rather his only son be left to die at the claws of a dragon than to risk the expendable lives of mere soldiers?"  
"No one's life is expendable, Legolas. I'm going to pretend you did not make such a ruthless remark. I have never met someone who was unimportant in my life. It was going to be you alone, or you and one hundred soldiers dying all at once. I think that was why he left. One life or one hundred lives? Do you understand?"  
"Yes, I suppose...it's just...I still can't help but think that-"  
"Well stop thinking it, okay?"  
Legolas looked down to the floor.  
"Thank you, Thorin."  
"Get some rest, elf, you will need it."

* * *

A few hours later a knock at the door jolted Legolas out of a fitful slumber.  
"Um, m'lord Legolas, King Thror would like to see you in the throne room if possible."  
Legolas groaned. Would he ever be allowed to rest properly? He just wanted to be back home in Greenwood, in his own comfortable bed. He carefully sat up and stretched gently. He winced with pain. Getting up, Legolas glanced in the mirror that hung on the wall.  
"Ew," he thought to himself. His face was grimy and his hair was a mess. He quickly tidied himself up and made his way to the throne room.

"Ah Legolas, my lad, come, have a seat, we're going over arrangements for the feast that's being held tonight in your honour! Please, do help yourself to a spot of breakfast!" King Thror exclaimed brightly.  
"Oh..my king, you really do not have to do anyth-"  
"Nonsense! You are a hero! You are a dragon-slayer! You deserve this! Well actually you deserve much more, but no matter!"  
Legolas could see that this feast would happen whether he wanted it to or not, no matter how much he protested. He nibbled a piece of bread, sighing and taking in the scene around him. The dragon's carcass had been moved yesterday of course, no doubt it would be served up as the main course at tonight's feast knowing dwarves. Blood had been washed from the floors, and all the gold had been taken away, to be buried deep within the mountain, so as to not attract any further dragons. He sighed again as King Thror began explaining the night's festivities. A dwarf entered the room.

"Your majesty, the convoy has returned from Greenwood."  
"Oh! Thank you, Dwalin."  
"Your Majesty," the dwarf named Dwalin bowed and left.  
"Oh dear me, where was I...? OH! Yes, so what do you think?"  
"I...yes..uh- it all souds wonderful, thank you, your majesty."  
Thror beamed.

"You look positively exhausted, laddie, why don't you go and get some rest? You shall be awoken when you must prepare for the celebration."  
"Oh yes...wait...- I do not have any spare clothes," He realised, looking down at his rags.  
"We will sort something out for you, dear boy, now go! Rest!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Here ya go**

Chapter Four

Thranduil opened the door to Legolas' room, inhaling the familiar scent of his son. He sighed. He just wanted his little leaf back. Stepping into the room he thought back to when Legolas was just a little elfling, to happier times, times before...before Legolas's nanneth was killed...a specific memory surfaced, one he had not thought about in hundreds of years. He remembered the first time he held his baby son. Looking down upon the infant, seeing his own eyes blinking back at him, seeing his face reflected in those eyes, tears slipping silently down his face as he marveled at his newborn son. Legolas had captured his heart immediately, and Thranduil was still captivated by him.

Thranduil began filling some saddlebags with clothes for his son, stopping briefly as he considered packing his royal circlet, one which he was to wear on very special occasions, but deciding against it. He reminisced once more, back to when Legolas was first presented with the circlet...

* * *

_"Ada..." whined a young voice," Must I wear it? It is much too...sparkly...people will think I am a she-elfling!"  
"Nonsense, Legolas! You will dress properly to welcome our guests from Lothlorién, or you will not welcome them at all! You will have to stay in your room, and miss dinner!"  
"Adaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-"  
"Legolas!" Thranduil glared at his young son.  
Tears began to fill the young elf's eyes.  
"Ada I am sorry I did not mean to make you angry," he cried.  
Thranduil knelt beside his son and pulled him into a gentle embrace.  
"Do not cry, little leaf, I am not angry with you, I am just a bit agitated."  
"What's agimitated?"  
The kind smiled.  
"It does not matter, penneth, now, will you wear your circlet?" (young one)  
"Yes, Ada," sniffed the child._

* * *

Thranduil smiled, as all these memories came back to him, as he had not been in Legolas' room in many years, not since he was an elfling. Sweeping his eyes around the room, he sighed once more, backed out, and closed the door silently.


End file.
